Chapter 46
A little while ago, when Hamilton had been explaining John’s Soul-Binding Magic, Castian had felt a chill alone in his chest.
It wasn’t unfamiliar to him that Hamilton said he would do anything for the one he cared about, that he would even give his body if it pleased them. Castian had seen the same when Hamilton owed his life to Lydia’s Soul-Binding Magic.
Even when asked whether he felt the same after the magic was undone, Hamilton hadn’t shown it, but Castian had been anxious.
If Hamilton answered yes, it would mean his love for Lydia still stemmed from the magic.
But Hamilton said with eyes full of fury:
“No. I do remember those feelings, but I don’t feel the same as when I was bound. Now, I actually hate him. Isn’t he the one who stole everything from me?”
Hamilton’s emotions had disappeared with the undoing of the Soul-Binding Magic, unlike Castian’s.
Castian still—or rather, even more intensely than before—loved Lydia, and no matter what anyone said, that love was his own.
Having reached that conclusion, his heart settled, but questions still lingered.
Was it really coincidence that John and Lydia both wielded a special Soul-Binding Magic capable of stirring another’s heart?
John had tried to bind the Demon King, Gaurun had been sent to kill him after being bound by John, and Lydia had appeared alongside Gaurun.
Was it all really just chance?
Castian stared into Lydia’s red eyes, waiting for her to speak.
She had called him over, saying she had something to ask, but as she faced Castian, who seemed unwilling to speak, she tilted her head.
“What do you want to ask?”
Lydia… who exactly are you?
The question that should have been asked first surged to his throat, but what Castian actually said was different:
“Lydia. Do you know how many Soul-Binders there are in Heimnad?”
“Um… I’m not sure? I’ve heard that both Necromancers and Soul-Binders are extremely rare even among Dark Magicians, so there can’t be many. But why do you ask?”
“I’ve heard dark magic is mainly passed down through apprenticeships. If that’s true, then among the other Soul-Binders, someone might know him.”
“That may be true, but how would anyone know John? Everyone hides their identity.”
In a world where just practicing dark magic is a crime, even someone who knew John would be hesitant to come forward, especially after the Demon King’s descent, which made public opinion toward dark magicians worse than ever.
Castian knew this well. It was why he had made a decision.
“If the reward for information comes from the Duchy of Bernstein, someone would appear on their own.”
“The Duchy of Bernstein? You mean the Duke would sponsor a dark magician?”
Lydia’s eyes widened, but Castian nodded calmly.
At first, Lydia thought this was madness—but on reflection, it was a plausible approach.
To dark magicians living in the shadows of the world, the Duke’s sponsorship would be an irresistible carrot.
Moreover, it was the fastest way to locate John. No matter how skilled the Bernstein intelligence network was, searching all of Heimnad would take too long.
Lydia had thought of asking the Death Soldiers to search, but even for them, Heimnad was too vast.
The question was how the dark magicians would respond to the Duke’s offer.
Frowning, Lydia asked seriously:
“Do you think they’ll trust it? What if they suspect a trap and don’t show up?”
“Show them proof that it’s true.”
“Proof?”
Tilting her head in confusion, Lydia met Castian’s gaze, and he slightly lifted the corner of his mouth—a dangerous smile.
Realizing something from that smile, Lydia pointed to herself with a baffled expression.
“Surely… that proof is me?”
“You will be the first dark magician to receive the Duchy of Bernstein’s sponsorship.”
“But… after the expedition, I’m going to undergo the purification ritual and become an ordinary person. Other dark magicians wouldn’t want to go through it.”
“That doesn’t matter. You don’t have to undergo the ritual if you don’t want to.”
“But dark magic is illegal. I don’t want to be caught.”
“No one can touch someone under Bernstein’s name. If the law is a problem, we’ll just change it.”
Castian answered as if imperial law were a simple evening menu choice.
For Lydia, who lived in a world where changing laws required extensive procedures, this was difficult to grasp—but she shrugged and accepted it.
Castian wasn’t the type to speak idle words, and if he said he would do it, it could be done.
Now, it was Lydia who had to decide.
She had kept the Death Soldiers hidden to avoid putting Castian at risk, but sending the reluctant Eidon into the shadows still left her uneasy.
Taking a deep breath, she spoke to her shadow:
“Everyone, come out.”
Eidon and the knights emerged from Lydia’s shadow as if waiting for her call.
“I was waiting for your summons,” Eidon said, his colorless face practically glowing, the tail behind him wagging as if in joy.
Lydia couldn’t hold back a laugh, then informed the twelve knights—excluding Eidon—of John’s appearance and asked them to search.
They couldn’t just wait for tips; they would act as far as they could.
While Lydia conversed with the Death Knights, Castian finished arranging his thoughts.
Lydia didn’t know John. And even if she did, it didn’t matter.
There was no need to ask who he was.
Lydia was the one he loved. And he was a man willing to give his life—or his soul—if she desired.
Castian reached out to Lydia as she returned from sending the knights.
Smiling brightly, she grasped his hand without hesitation.
For him, that was already enough.
Meanwhile, Marcus approached Irine, who had returned to the priests.
The saint and Marcus were the two most famous people in the temple aside from the High Priest, but their values and ways of life were completely opposite, making their relationship awkward.
More precisely, Marcus, who usually took a step back in everything, had found Irine, who always spoke her mind, difficult to handle.
He had intentionally avoided her company, but today he had been the first to speak to her repeatedly.
“What did you think after talking with Lady Lydia?”
“She was very cute. Now I understand why you defended Lydia so passionately, saying she couldn’t be in league with a runaway Soul-Binder,” Irine said with a playful smile.
Marcus had worried that even a saint like Irine might have prejudice against Lydia as a necromancer, just as he himself once did.
He had spoken to her at length to gauge her reaction, but it seemed his concerns were unnecessary.
Clearing his throat to hide his embarrassment, he added:
“I didn’t say it because she was cute, but because I observed her closely. Though a dark magician, she had no evil intentions.”
Irine stared at him for a moment, then asked suddenly:
“Marcus, is human nature good or evil?”
“Huh?”
Marcus asked, taken aback, but Irine continued in her bright, lively tone:
“I’ve seen dark magicians who tried to ruin the world, and dark magicians who risked their lives to save a friend. It’s for God to judge their nature. We only need to judge by their actions, don’t you think?”
Marcus recalled Lydia, who asked whether there could not be good dark magicians, given that there are good mages and good priests.
Those chosen by God, those who attempted to exploit powers not of divine origin, and the inferiority complex born of false guilt—all excuses. Marcus could pick any to justify abandoning his life.
It was Lydia who first knocked on the wall of prejudice he had built, and Irine had just completely broken the cracked wall.
“I’ve been thinking a lot since meeting Lady Lydia. What you say is right, Saint.”
“Oh my, even grumbling Marcus admits it willingly—how surprising. And your presence here is a surprise too. Is that also thanks to Lady Lydia?”
Irine teased Marcus with a mischievous smile.
Seeing him embarrassed, she laughed loudly, then looked at the distant sky and murmured to herself:
“Let’s go back. This time, I think we must grab the High Priest by the collar, no matter what anyone says.”
Though the smile remained on her lips, her eyes, the color of the sky, were deep and resolute.
